Anything For You
by desertwolf4
Summary: As the alpha, Peter is used to getting what he wants. What he wants more than anything, more than having Stiles as his most loyal companion, is revenge on the Argent family. Nothing would satisfy him more than seeing them completely destroyed at the hands of someone they knew. To do that he had one simply task to complete. Kidnap Christopher Argent, break him, and make him obey.


**Author's Notes:** Hi my name is desertwolf4 and I have an addiction to Teen Wolf and a huge crush on Peter Hale/Ian Bohen. Seriously it's kind of crazy. Anyways. Here's my latest story for the world of Teen Wolf. I for one like it. But read at your own risk, if you are confused to that read the warning below.

This story is not only Peter/Stiles. It is also Peter/Chris. But since I could only tag one other character I went with Stiles. But it is both.

**WARNING THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN DARKER THEMES INCLUDING: KIDNAPPING, MENTAL AND PHYSICAL COERCION, MURDER, VIOLENCE, BLOOD AND GORE. AS WELL AS OTHER THEMES NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNGER PEOPLE. **

**CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.**

* * *

Peter knew Chris. He knew everything about him and had since they had both been young. Back then Peter had thought he had a crush on the other teen, had told him as much and had been rejected by the hunter. Something about not being able to love a monster. Peter wasn't a monster.

Or he hadn't been, the fire had changed that.

Everything about him that had once existed, his personality, his emotions, they were gone. He was a shell, driven by pure instinct. He was a wolf in human form. And there was one thing he wanted. Revenge.

He would have it there was no doubt that. It was how he would go about it that would make it so delicious. Best served cold indeed.

And his newest toy would certainly see to that. After all, what better way to get revenge on the family that destroyed his own, by having his former friend be the one to kill them? It wouldn't take much to convince the hunter to cooperate. Peter knew the strings to pull to manipulate him in just the right way. But first he had to break him.

He had to destroy him to the point where he would not be able to do anything without his permission. That was something he was looking very much forward to. It had been easy enough with Lydia. With Christopher Argent, hunter and code lover extraordinaire? Oh it'd be fun. A challenge. One he was certain he could complete. No, he would complete it.

The hunter would pay for the sins of his family. It would be perfect. A hunter killing hunters for slaughtering his family. Poetic in his destroyed mind.

It wasn't like his nephew could protest. Peter had seen to that, and all it took was a few simple words to threaten him.

The tips of his claws dragged along Stiles's shoulder, earning a shiver from the young human. Peter smirked. Oh it had been so easy to get Stiles to support his cause. After all, Stiles had wanted the bite; it was his words that refused him. Everything else said otherwise.

"Now Stiles, my dear," Peter began, hooking one of his claws under his chin, lifting his gaze, forcing him to look into his eyes. "You like it when I'm happy. Don't you?" Stiles nodded, and Peter grinned, his thumb brushing over his lips. "You know what would make me very happy?" Well, there were several things that he knew Stiles knew about that would make him very happy, however, they were not currently what he was thinking of.

"And what's that?" Stiles asked, quirking a brow. Normally Peter would have given him some sort of snappy response, though thoughts of that were stopped as Stiles situated himself in the alpha's lap. "So many things seem to make you happy, hard to keep track of them."

Had Peter mentioned that the way he had gotten Derek to behave was to say that he was currently in the process of seducing Stiles Stilinski? He could not have thought of a better way to keep an eye on the Police department than to use the son of the sheriff. It had really started out as a way to control his nephew; he couldn't have guessed that the spoils would be so delicious for himself.

"Today it's something you have to do for me," Peter replied, his hands on Stiles's cheek. The boy had a dark side, one that no one else knew about. Peter did; he knew from the second that Stiles had watched him kill one of the people who had set the fire. He knew from the way Stiles's heart quickened, how his breath caught in his throat. The scent of fear was not on him, not on him at all. The young man had been aroused, and Peter had taken advantage of that without a second thought.

And Stiles had been his ever since.

"Do enlighten me, you make me so curious to know," Stiles whispered to him, their lips mere centimeters apart. "Want to know what to do to make you…happy…"

A low growl rumbled in Peter's chest as he felt Stiles's hips press against his own. Oh this was not the time for that, but who was he to refuse his little pet? "Need you to make a call." Peter trailed his claws down Stiles's back, feeling him shiver against him again. "Need you to call Chris Argent. Tell him that you've been attacked by a werewolf. Tell him to come here."

Stiles knew of his plan, thought that it was a brilliant plan, but it hinged on so many different things. The first of them being the fact that he needed to actually get Chris alone, which Stiles should be able to help with.

His fingers slid under Stiles's shirt, hands having gone back to normal for the moment. No need to bloody the boy just yet. His muscles were quivering against his fingers, and it brought a grin to his face. "Think you can do that for me, be my good boy?"

He could feel Stiles's breath on his neck, hot, coming out in pants as he continued to grind their hips together. Peter liked to watch Stiles come undone, get himself so wound up without even having to ask. "I'll do it." Stiles's lips were on his neck, sucking, biting at the alpha's skin.

Peter let his head fall back on the couch, his hands holding onto Stiles's waist. One of his hands moved, slipping down the back of his pants. He pressed his finger against him, earning a soft gasp from his companion.

His eyes opened as the sound of footsteps reached his ears and he lifted his head. Stiles had his face buried in Peter's neck still, his movements become faster, more erratic. Peter met his nephew's gaze and could only smirk at him. There was a look of betrayal in his eyes, one that Peter didn't like one bit. So he took his hand off Stiles's waist, the one that he wasn't using to tease him and, claws extended, let it rest on the back of the boy's neck.

The threat worked, causing Derek to flinch, but Derek didn't move, as if he was unable to look away. Time to play with him then. He could play the enamored lover if he wanted to, rather than the controlling alpha. He got what he wanted, and right then he wanted to drive Derek away.

Peter moved to bring his lips to Stiles's, kissing him passionately. He bit at his lips, not hard enough to turn him, though he held the belief that Stiles would make a fantastic werewolf. The teen's moans were drowned in their kiss, but when Peter slid his finger into him, Stiles's hands gripped at Peter's shoulders. "P-Peter."

Fuck, how he loved it when Stiles said his name like that; loved it so much that if he had a recording of it he quite possibly might not even need the human again. It had worked. Derek had left the room.

A smirk formed on Peter's lips at the sound Stiles made as he worked another finger into him. He found no need to be gentle with him, not at that point anyways. The first time he had taken him into his bed, yes he had been gentle; he did have that capacity in him. That and he had not wanted to spoil what, at the time, had been a budding relationship. Every time after that, he had gotten progressively rougher with him to the point where having the bite would probably be of use to the human, at least so he could heal faster. But Stiles was used to him, he liked it, hell he practically begged for it sometimes.

The hand on the back of Stiles's neck had returned to normal yet again; neck was for biting, not for his claws. He gripped at his skin, inhaling sharply as he felt Stiles bite down on his neck. His eyes closed, listening to the sounds coming from his current partner. Faithful? Oh he was a good majority of the time, but every so often there was an itch that Stiles was just not ready to scratch, and Stiles knew that. It was the only reason he'd ever take someone else into his bed.

Yet at that moment with Stiles grinding against him, the pleasure that came with the contact, it was not Stiles who he was imagining himself with. It was the hunter. It was Chris in his lap, riding him, biting him. It was Chris's skin that his claws would sink into as he easily pinned the man down. His face, his body, his voice. That's what was calling to him. It was violent, bloody, rough, but how else could it be? The days of imagining those pretty and sweet moments were gone. All that remained was instinct, the instinct to claim Chris, force him to submit.

Peter's eyes snapped open as he felt Stiles's hands clutching at him, his body shaking against his alpha's. He pulled his fingers from him, moving his hand to trace Stiles's lips, pushing them into his mouth. He moaned at the feeling of Stiles's tongue brushing against his digits. "That's my good boy Stiles," he purred into his ear. "But you're wearing too many clothes. Fix it."

Of course Stiles complied, and Stiles was standing before him naked. His skin, which had once been flawless, was now littered with scars; bite and claw marks from their various sessions together. Peter raised a brow at Stiles, his eyes darting down to his still clothed body. Again, Stiles obeyed his silent command, taking great care in undressing his alpha who stayed seated on the couch.

Then Stiles was back in his lap, running his nose along Peter's jaw, his arms wrapped around Peter's neck. He tilted his head to the side, begging, submitting to him, and Peter's heart sped up at the sight as it always did.

He took hold of Stiles's waist, guiding him down onto his cock. He heard the whimper from Stiles, who had once again buried his face in Peter's neck. The teen stayed still until Peter was completely in him, only then did he start to move. Each time Stiles lifted himself up then lowered himself back down he went faster, increasing the pace as he got used to the feeling of his beloved alpha in him.

They continued like that, Stiles riding him, Peter's hands holding onto his waist, guiding his movements. Every so often their lips would meet for a brief but bruising kiss. Peter normally would do his best to keep any marks from their time together on a spot Stiles could hide. But Stiles was seventeen. He was no longer considered a minor. So it didn't matter to him.

And besides…for his trap to work Stiles was going to have to have some evidence that he was attacked.

* * *

Oh how he had been waiting for this moment, his heart racing within the confines of his chest as he watched Chris Argent, gun drawn, cautiously approach the spot where Stiles was hiding. Stiles had been a good boy, like always, allowing Peter to bruise and bloody that pretty face of his and cut open his upper arm to give the appearance that he had been attacked. Then all he had to do was stay there till the hunter arrived, and then it was Peter's turn.

He moved silently through the woods as he approached the hunter who had knelt down by Stiles. He had to give the kid props for being a superb actor; he looked positively terrified.

"Who did this to you?" Chris asked Stiles, helping the teen to his feet.

"I…I don't know. Can't be sure, but was a werewolf. I swear. He must still be around. We have to get out of here," Stiles was rambling, swaying slightly on his feet. Poor boy, Peter would have to tend to his wounds later. Lucky him. "Please, Mr. Argent, you have to get me out of here."

He watched Stiles's gaze flick over to him then back to Mr. Argent. The subtle clue. Peter was standing right behind the hunter when he spun around, gun raised. He caught his wrist, holding it tight enough that he felt the bones crunch under his hand. "Now that's not very nice."

Pain flared in Chris's eyes, the gun falling from his hand as Peter bent his now broken wrist forward, forcing the man to his knees. "Oh this is much better, always wanted to have you kneeling in front of me."

"You…" He could see the look of recognition in Chris's eyes as he realized just who it was that had shattered his wrist. "You. No, you're supposed to be in a coma."

"Took six years, but here I am. I'm too handsome to remain in that place." He saw Chris's had move, the glint of the knife blade, and he caught his other wrist. "Really Christopher, we do need to teach you some manners don't we?" Peter leaned down, his claws extending, sinking into Chris's skin. His heart skipped at the feeling of the man's blood on his fingers.

He released one of his wrists, taking hold of Chris's chin with his bloody fingers. "Now, you're going to be good for me, hunter boy. Cause this? You aren't getting out of, and your hunter friends won't be able to save you." Peter brushed his thumb over Chris's lips, still as beautiful as he remembered from high school. Too bad he'd have to change that if Chris misbehaved. "Tie him up Stiles, and do be careful of his broken wrist, don't want it too badly damaged."

"What?" Chris turned his head to look at Stiles, eyes wide as Stiles approached with a length of rope, tying Chris's wrists behind his back. "You're with him?"

"I can be very convincing." Peter straightened up, licking the blood from his fingertips with a soft satisfied purred. "My pet would do anything for me. Wouldn't you Stiles?"

"Course I would."

"And soon, Chris, you too will find that you will be unable to resist me. You'll beg for me to touch you, beg to please me just for a scrap of food. Because hunter, I've got plans for you, and for that I need you to cooperate. You won't do that without convincing. I know you too well for that." Peter easily lifted Chris back up. "First step is you are going to call your wife, tell her you're leaving her for someone else. A man. You will not say anything more than that. Understood."

"Like hell I will," Chris growled.

Peter sighed and shook his head, his hand on Chris's shoulder. His eyes turned red as he looked at the hunter. "Oh darling, you're going to wish that you agreed to this willingly. I really didn't want to have to hurt you this soon."

* * *

"Are you insane?"

Peter let out an annoyed sigh at the sound of Derek's voice. Must the beta always kill his good mood? Clearly that was his curse.

"Possibly, I think the jury is still out on that though." Peter turned to face his nephew, arms folded over his chest. "You need something Derek? Or are you just here to complain?"

"Kidnapping a hunter? You have lost it Peter."

Peter had just about enough of Derek. He slammed his nephew up against the wall, his fangs extended, growling at him. "You will learn to respect me as your alpha or I will make you submit to me Derek. You are not in control here. You are my follower. It is time you learned that. If you did, maybe you could have what you want, but since you don't, Stiles Stilinski is mine." Derek was struggling beneath him. Guess it was time for a lesson on behavior.

He dragged his clawed hand over Derek's cheek, grinning as blood seeped from the cuts. "Must eat you alive doesn't it? To know that he comes to me, aching, begging, pleading for me to fuck him, hm?" He heard Derek growl and Peter wrapped his hand around Derek's throat. "Bout time you learnt your place nephew. You are a beta. You do not have a say in any aspect of what I do. If I want to screw him in front of you, you'd have to stay and watch."

Peter leaned close to him, his breath hot on Derek's cheek. "There's a reason Stiles has more freedom than you do; there's a reason you are confined to this house and he is not. He makes me happy. You do nothing but anger me. You've got a long way to go before you earn my trust."

"You killed Laura," Derek managed to get out; he was still struggling, though it was less. Was he listening? Oh no, Peter was certain that he wasn't that lucky.

"I was not in my right mind as you very well know." He tightened his grip, his claws sinking into his skin. "Best start making me happy Derek. This keeps up you'll only be a hindrance, and you'll wind up like poor Laura."

He stepped back letting Derek fall to the floor, and he looked down at him, smirking. "Do take my advice and stop being a fool about this Derek. You need me and I need you. After all, we are family."

Peter turned to walk out of the room to go to the basement where his newest toy was waiting for him. Oh how he was looking forward to it.

"And how exactly do I make you happy?"

"Ask Stiles."

* * *

It had been a long and eventful day and Peter was looking forward to a shower and sleep. Mainly the sleep part; he wasn't quite ready to wash of the scent of Stiles from his skin just yet. He liked his scent, kept him close. But Stiles had to go home, it was the one thing that Peter had relented on. Stiles was allowed to stay in his own home with his father. Peter did admire the Sheriff, he seemed like a decent father. Unlike his own who had treated him like he was another member of the pack.

He had locked the basement, made sure it was dark and completely void of things that Chris could use to kill himself or get free. It'd be no fun if the hunter died or escaped.

The encounter with Derek had gotten his pulse racing to the point where he had almost wished that Stiles were still there, but he had let him go home once he had fixed up his arm.

It was with a small sigh that he entered the bathroom alone, turned on the water hot enough to burn his skin. A reminder, a painful reminder of why he was doing this, of why he was the way he was. Peter hissed as it hit his skin, turning it an angry pink.

He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes closed as the water hit his face. He was aware of someone in the room with him, someone who had not been there before. Probably Derek contemplating what it would take to make him happy. Oh it'd take a lot; Peter blamed Derek for the fire even if he had not lit it himself. Derek was the reason Kate Argent had gotten them. If it was not for the fact that he only killed Laura because he had been insane, the fact that he did care about his family, he'd have killed Derek already.

The house had been fixed up for the most part. There was still a great deal of money to the family name and Peter used it for the repairs. After all, he was the rightful owner of the house. That and he wanted a place where he could work and it would not look like a haunted house. The Hale house now looked inconspicuous, normal.

Yet inside lived a monster.

Peter stepped from the shower, wrapping the towel around his waist. All he wanted was to crawl into bed, and that was what he did. He didn't bother with clothing, no real point in that moment. As he lay in bed, he heard the sound of the floorboards creaking; his nephew's scent filled the room.

And Derek, to his disbelief, lay on the ground beside his bed, stomach towards the ceiling. A not so subtle form of submission from his nephew. The least he could do is acknowledge it, and that was what he did by lowering his hand, letting his knuckles brush against Derek's jaw. It felt like sandpaper on his skin. He pulled his hand back up, closed his eyes, and was asleep.

* * *

**Reviews are loved.**

**I did warn you remember that.  
**


End file.
